Acmetropolis 7: The Inheritance
by furrball
Summary: The last question about Paula Hayes gets answered here. Really. Rated T for taut. PaulaxOC.


AUTHOR'S OPENING NOTES: Well, all good things _have_ to come to a screeching halt sometime, and that _includes_ "Acmetropolis". A few words about the story you're about to read, if I may:

First, it's numbered "7" _only_ for the sake of convenience. In point of fact, it _should_ probably be number 8; but I couldn't get the story I'd _intended_ to write started. If I ever get that one going, _then_ I'll renumber it.

Second: this tale obviously takes place _quite_ a while after the events in my last story, "Resigned To Fate". For one thing, in the interim, Paula and Massive actually followed through and got married; so if you see Weather Vane's alter-ego referred to as "Paula Hayes-Paine", please don't let it throw you, okay?

Third: _This_ is, regrettably, where I _have_ to put up the "gratuitous-violence-against-Paula" warning sign again, folks, with good reason – I wanted to come up with a villain you would actually _want_ to reach into the computer monitor and slap around if you could. I think I succeeded. (And wait till you find out who it is!) Trust me, Qurrg was a goldfish compared to _this_ guy.

And finally, this is _also_ the story that answers the one _remaining_ question concerning Paula (as _I_ see her, anyway): _Where_ did she ever get the idea her family _hated_ her? That final mystery gets solved _here_. Really.

Okay. Enough chatter. See you at the end credits.

---

Acmetropolis 7 : "The Inheritance" by furrball

Chapter One: "Serious Business…"

---

It was that kind of a day in Acmetropolis; the sort of a day when nothing big seemed to be happening, for indeed, nothing apparently was; and all was right with the slightly tilted world, as long as you didn't turn on the television.

"Drake, _why_ must you watch that woman?" Paula Hayes-Paine moaned as the younger of the Sypher brothers stared intently at Misty Breeze.

"I don't know, call it a fascination with torture," he sighed.

"Now you know how we feel when it's your turn to _cook_," Mallory snickered.

"Hey, squirt, when did _you_ ever learn how to cook?" Duke chuckled.

Velvet fixed a world-weary stare at him. "Who said he _could?_" she said, causing the group to explode in derisive laughter.

"Cold, lady!" Massive smirked.

"Do you mind, I'm trying to watch this," Drake grumbled, and then brightened. "Hey, you know, if you zoom in on her face, you can actually see the zits starting to peek out through her make up…"

"Really?!? NOW I'm interested! Move over!" Paula giggled, perching herself beside Drake in a heartbeat. "Hey, they're right! The camera _does_ add ten pounds… to her _face!_" she snickered.

"OUCH! Gimme five, surfer chick!"

"All right," Paula laughed, slapping palms with Drake.

"… and that's the weather for Greater Acmetropolis and the surrounding area. I'm Misty Breeze, ACME-T Weather, and back to Scoop."

"Thanks, Misty, and I'm sure we'll…" Scoop Carlson's appearance turned somber all of a sudden. "This just in, ladies and gentlemen. The wreckage of a private hovercraft has been found off the coast of Jones Bay. It appears to be that of Acmetropolis industrialist and quadzillionaire Rutherford Hayes. Reports are coming in that… yes, the three passengers have now been positively identified as Mr. Hayes, his wife, Dr. Paulette Moreau, and their son Paul. There were no survivors. The family is survived by Paula Hayes-Paine, whom you might also know as the HOP Force's 'Weather Vane'. Our condolences go out to her. More on this story as it devel…"

Drake shut the TV off at that moment and instinctively wrapped his arms around Paula, whose lower lip had already started quivering halfway through the bulletin. She buried her head in his shoulder and cried softly, while Drake stroked her hair and held her closely. The others all exchanged sad looks while this tableau played itself out for several minutes…

---

Several minutes later, Paula excused herself to go sit near the grooved wall of the orb. She told herself she needed to be alone at this moment, but both she and the others knew that wouldn't wash for long. So it was, several minutes after that, that Drake cautiously peered out of the door, gently approached her, and sat down beside her. "Hi," he whispered.

Paula looked up and tried to smile through her tears. "Hi, yourself. So… you come here often?"

"Only when I want to eat my own cooking," he smiled self-deprecatingly. "I…"

Paula held his hand tightly. "You're sorry, I know. Thanks, Drake. I… I just can't get over it… they never came to visit me _once_ when I was in prison… they didn't send me a birthday card or Christmas present… not a congratulatory hologram all the times I helped _save_ this planet… they _wouldn't_ even come to my _wedding_… it's like I never _existed_ to them – _any_ of them… so _why_ do I feel so terrible _now?_" she cried.

"I wish I had the answer to that, Paula," he sighed.

"Why… why is it _me_ all the time? Every horrible thing that happens around here, it's always happening to _ME!_ It's like… I don't know, Drake… these powers really _are_ a curse or something…"

"You don't believe that even for a _minute_, do you?"

"How would _you_ explain it, then? It's just been _one_ disaster for me after another. If I wasn't getting kidnapped and eaten by Selzerians, I was almost zapping innocent bystanders. And now… now _this! Why_ do you guys _put up_ with me?" she sobbed, wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her head on his shoulder again.

Drake was momentarily dumbfounded. Of all the questions Paula _could_ have asked, that was the _last_ one he would have expected. "Hey, that's _my_ line, all right?" he whispered. "I really haven't got an answer for your first question, unless you wanna attribute it to sheer coincidence, if there really _is_ such a thing; but as for your other one?... Here, come on, look at me, okay?" Drake sighed, and gently prodded Paula on the chin until the two were face to face. "We, quote, _'put up with you'_ because… well, we all _love_ you. Unquote. That answer your question?" he smiled.

Paula smiled in return - a wan smile, but a smile nonetheless. "My Knight Protector strikes again. Yeah, I guess it does." She unwrapped herself from Drake and leaned back against the wall. "Now that you mention it, I guess it _does_ explain a lot. I mean… you guys are the closest thing to a _real_ family that I have, outside of Zadavia and Optimatus or my aunt and uncle on the farm… not to mention my cousin Pauline…"

"Oh yeah, Pauline," Drake chuckled.

"But it's like - not that they _don't_, you understand, but - you guys all really _care_ about me, y'know? Why is that?"

Drake shrugged. "Shared experiences, perhaps?"

"_That_ must be it," Paula sighed. "Did I ever tell you I thought of you like a big brother?"

"Really?"

"Yeah. Sort of a goofy big brother who never really grew up, but a big brother nonetheless," Paula smiled.

"Well, thanks… I think. Hey, for what it's worth, Vel's not the only one who thinks of you as a 'little sister', either. Duke's the only immediate family I have, as far as siblings go… but I like to think of you as the kid sister I never had, if that means anything. Forward that info to Massive, will you? I don't want him getting suspicious…"

"Thanks, 'big bro'," Paula replied, planting a quick smooch on him.

"Anytime, 'li'l sis'," Drake replied when he'd found his voice.

"Startle you there, did I?"

"Um… no…"

"Liar," Paula said.

"Okay, you caught me." A light rain started to fall. "Hey, we'd better get inside, don'tcha… think?" He turned and saw that Paula had changed into Weather Vane without him even noticing, and was looking wordlessly up into the clouds. "Um, never mind," he added. 'Oh well, no sense in just _one_ of us catching a cold,' he thought…

---

After the memorial service, Paula was feeling about as well as you could, given the circumstances, which is to say, she felt awful… and it had nothing to do with the brief cold she and Drake caught from sitting in the rain the other night. Even the presence of Zadavia, her fellow HOP Forcers, the Loonatics, Chief Reilly, Misty and Rob from the network, plus her 'aunt' May and 'uncle' Ben – and Pauline, of course – only helped her deal with the pain a little bit; but she was glad they were there – kind of an extended family.

"Hey, Paula," Pauline asked, dressed in a simple black dress that set off her auburn hair, "what are you gonna do?"

"I think I'd really rather go home now, 'couz'," Paula had told them when it was all over. "It's been a crummy couple of days…"

"It's about to get even crummier, babe," Massive added, pointing towards a tall gentleman in a dark blue suit who was heading right for them.

"Haven't I seen him before?" Velvet asked.

"That's Stanley Flossgaard. He's… he _was_ my father's attorney," Paula sighed. "Every time Dad would hold one of his press conferences, he'd be right there in back, well within camera range," she added distastefully. "Like a trained puppy."

"Oh, yeah, that's right," Mallory noted. "Probably wants to offer condolences and the like."

"Oh, Miss Hayes, there you are," Flossgaard said in a clipped British accent. "I've been looking all over for you."

"Um, it's 'Mrs. Paine' now," Massive reminded him with a forced smile.

"Oh, is it? I didn't know," Flossgaard laughed, a trifle embarrassed. "Well, give my regards to her husband…"

"Dude, like, that _is_ her husband," Drake noted with a smirk.

"Oh, I… I didn't realise," Flossgaard blushed. "Pleasure to meet you, sir."

"Stanley, what is it you want?" Paula asked with all the enthusiasm of someone undergoing root canal.

"Well, Miss Hay…er, Mrs. Paine, it's… well, honestly, a horrible time to be bringing this up…"

Paula rolled her eyes, but tried to be accommodating. "Let me guess, the disposition of my dad's estate, right?"

"Well, yes…"

"And _what_, Mr. Flossgaard, even makes you think that I'd be _interested_, now or _ever?_ He never showed me the slightest interest these last three years, so if you'll excuse me…" Paula growled.

"But, Mrs. Paine, it's vitally important that we discuss this…"

"Get it straight, Jack, here is not the place…" Massive growled.

"The name is 'Stanley', Mr. Paine, not Jack, and I quite agree, this is neither the time _nor_ the place," Flossgaard replied coldly. "Is there someplace _else_ we can discuss this? Your headquarters, perhaps?"

"Fine, whatever," Paula sighed, feeling a headache coming on.

"As you wish," Flossgaard bowed, and left.

"Do I get to make the chip dip?" Drake asked.

"Are you kidding? _Your_ chip dip would poison a rat… on second thought, go right ahead," Paula said, staring at the departing Flossgaard and dreading their next meeting…

---

"So _this_ is your headquarters! Fascinating!" Flossgaard said, genuine interest reflected in his features. "You have quite a view of the area, don't you?"

"At this point, you're preaching to the choir," Duke sighed wearily.

"Hm? Oh… yes, you're right, old fellow," Flossgaard laughed briefly. "I suppose I _should_ get down to business. As you know, Mis… er, Mrs. Paine… I don't know _why_ I can't remember that… your father, in addition to his other interests, also ran a large philanthropic organisation…"

"The Hayes Foundation?" Velvet asked.

"So you've heard of it, Miss Williams?"

"Name me one person in Acmetropolis who _hasn't_," she replied. "Paula, how come you never mentioned this?"

"Hey, he never acknowledged _my_ existence," Paula sulked.

"_That_ is where you're wrong," Flossgaard replied, opening his briefcase and handing her a holocard. Paula looked it over disinterestedly and carelessly tossed it to Duke, who smiled weakly and inserted it in the main computer. The image of Mr. Hayes appeared before them.

"Greetings," he said. "If you are seeing this now, then you must be the HOP Force. I've instructed my attorney, Mr. Flossgaard, that in the event of my death, that he was to play it in your presence. This constitutes my last will and testament. In the event of my passing, I have deigned that the entire bulk of my estate shall be divided equally between my wife, Paulette, and our two children, Paul and Paula. If, God forbid, one of them should also pass on, the estate will then be split fifty-fifty; and if there is only one surviving heir, then it will go to him or her, as the case may be. Should there be no heirs, then the bulk of the estate will go to the Hayes Foundation to be administered by Mr. Flossgaard as he sees fit. Being of sound mind and hopefully sound body, set forth this day, June 23rd, 2775, etc. That concludes all the legal folderol and flapdoodle. Don't tell Flossgaard I said that, he's such a stick in the mud about legal issues, heh heh."

The group's attention briefly turned from Paula to Flossgaard, who could only wear a pained grin.

"Okay, enough of the introduction," Mr. Hayes continued. "Now we come to the crux of the matter, which I hope won't be as longwinded, but probably will anyway. This is directed to the members of the HOP Force… and one in particular. I have been following your progress with great interest, as have Paulette and Paul, and, I dare say, _all_ of Acmetropolis. You have not only lived up to the legacy set forth by the Loonatics, but in essence, blazed one of your own. As a citizen of Acmetropolis, I am proud of _all_ of you… but _none_ more so than our dear Paula Jeanette. Your mother and I were heartbroken when you first became Weather Vane, dear, and as for Paul… well, who knows _what_ he was thinking?" he sighed quietly. "So, we made a decision that I have come to regret, and probably will even after you view this. Paula, we should never have cut you out of our lives like that. It was a cruel thing to do, and one that I will _never_ be able to live with. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive us, late though it may be."

The group looked at their leader, who sat stunned.

"I'd love to stay and chat, but I only have so much time on this damn holocard. Flossgaard, you have your duties, carry them out. As for you, HOP Force, continue to do Acmetropolis proud. And Gordon, _do_ take care of my little girl. Don't let anything happen to her. Paula, I love you. I've never shown it as of late, but I always have. I always will. Message ends." With that, the hologram disappeared.

All was silent in the room, except for Paula's faintly audible sobbing and whispered "I forgive you, Daddy…" Massive cradled her in his arms and let her get it out of her system for a few minutes; at the end of this, Flossgaard handed her a handkerchief.

Finally, after everyone had pulled themselves together, Flossgaard spoke. "Well, there you have it. Mrs. Paine, as executor, it is my duty and honour to present you your father's estate." He handed her the briefcase. "You'll find all the necessary, um, folderol and flapdoodle, inside."

"Mr. Flossgaard," Paula said, still choking back tears, "I'm just a crime fighter. When it comes to all this, I'm as lost as Drake would be in a cooking school; so I'll let you handle all the legal stuff, if that's all right with you."

"As you wish," he nodded. "For what it's worth, you have inherited _quite_ a large fortune, Mrs. Paine…"

"Like, how large?" Drake asked. "Not that it's any of my business…"

"You're right, squirt. It _isn't_," Duke growled.

"For the record, it should last her several lifetimes, at least," Flossgaard smiled. "Considering her recent regenerative abilities, I think it'll be a toss-up, myself. In any event, I'm sure you'll use it wisely."

"So, babe, what's the first thing you're going to do with it all?" Massive asked.

"Oh, gosh, I haven't even _thought_ about it… I know!"

"Yeah, what?"

A smile finally came to Paula for the first time in days. "I've always wanted to dabble in real estate… I want to buy this building!"

"The Acmetropolis Tower?" Massive asked, thunderstruck.

"Why not?"

The other members of the HOP Force exchanged shocked smiles, which were quickly extinguished by Mr. Flossgaard. "I'm afraid, Mrs. Paine, that _that_ is out of the question. The Acmetropolis Tower already _has_ an owner."

"Oh. Who?"

Flossgaard smiled. "According to the deed, it is already sole property of one Queen Zadavia of Freleng who, in her absence, has bequeathed it to the Hayes Foundation, who are to turn it over to her sister, Princess Mellisandra… in other words, you. Congratulations!"

"You're just full of surprises, aren't you?" Massive observed.

"Yes. Unfortunately, not _all_ of them are as pleasant as _that_ was," Flossgaard sighed.

"What do you mean?" Mallory asked.

"Call me suspicious; it comes from years of being an attorney, I suppose, but… Mrs. Paine… Paula… _I_ don't think your family's deaths were an _accident_."

"What makes you say that?" Duke asked.

"This might interest _you_, Mr. Sypher," Flossgaard declared. "Mr. Hayes was an experienced pilot. He could fly anything from a zeppelin to a small two-seater airplane. If it could be airborne, he could fly it."

"I remember," Paula smiled. "Daddy always loved to be up in the sky."

"Guess you take after him, 'Surfer Girl'," Duke noted.

"Indeed. You should have seen her when he gave her her first hover board," Flossgaard smiled. "She couldn't wait to get on it, but he made bloody sure she learned all the necessary basics first. He taught her himself."

"He taught her well," Massive replied.

"Evidently. She was a teenage hover board sky surfing champ for five years in a row, did you know that?" Flossgaard beamed. "The best thing he ever taught her was, always pay attention to your surroundings. Flying is the best form of release there is, but you have to pay attention."

"That, and maintain your equipment," Paula added wistfully.

"Exactly," Flossgaard acknowledged. "This is why I found the evidence at the scene so puzzling. Rutherford knew everything there is to know about flying, _including not_ going out in a damaged craft." He pulled a manila envelope out of a second briefcase. "For _Paula's_ sake, I'd prefer she not _see_ these…"

"No," Paula replied. "I'm a crime fighter, remember? If my family met with foul play, I want to know… I _have_ to know. Besides, I've been eaten by lizards, I can take it."

"As you wish," he sighed and showed the pictures to Duke and Paula, who both concentrated on the minute details instead of looking at the bigger picture (so to speak).

"What do you think, Duke?"

"I don't know…" He inspected the photos further. "Wait a minute… I see it!"

"See what?"

"Underneath the fuselage," he noted, pointing to one particular photo. "There. See that?"

"That's the coolant feeder tube, isn't it?"

"Exactly, 'Surfer Girl'. You know your hovercraft."

"Some of the details are a little fuzzy, yeah, but… has that thing been cut?"

"Clean through," Duke muttered.

"Look closer," Flossgaard advised them. Duke and Paula did so. "It wasn't cut, it was _perforated_."

Mallory handed them a magnifying glass, and they inspected the picture further. "Thanks, Mall… hey, he's right, Paula," Duke noted.

"So I _see_," she replied bitterly. "But who would _do_ that, and _why?_"

---

Chapter Two: "Caught In A Trap…"

The next morning, Paula rose early so as not to disturb the others, placed a soft kiss on her husband's lips, had a quick shower, then dressed in a casual outfit (simple blouse and slacks) and headed towards the kitchen to grab herself a cup of coffee. She had a lot to think about, and she wanted to make sure she was wide awake first. Once in the kitchen, she poured herself a cup of java, added a dollop of cream and honey, and sat down at the table.

"So, Mrs. Paine, any theories yet?"

"No, not so far, Mr. Flossgaard, I just got… _Flossgaard!_" she suddenly exclaimed in a startled whisper. "How did _you_ get in?"

"Actually, I never left," he confessed. "I kipped on the couch in your rec room. Hope you don't mind."

"Um, no, just _tell_ a body when you're going to _do_ that next time, okay?"

"Terribly sorry, Paula," Flossgaard smiled sheepishly. "Will do."

"Hey, forget it," she smiled, taking a sip of her coffee. "Guess you could tell I didn't get much sleep, huh?"

"Under the circumstances, I'm not at all surprised, my dear. Truth to tell, neither did I. I'm still thinking about that hover craft. Somebody _must_ have had access to it sometime before the crash, I'm _sure_ of it."

"That's exactly what _I_ was thinking, Stanley," Paula said softly. "Not only that, but they knew what they were doing, and they must have taken more than a bit of time, as well."

"I agree," the lawyer replied. "You couldn't _rush_ a perforation like that and make it look like a clean cut. You're right, whoever did _this_ took their own sweet _time_ about it."

"We're on the same page, then," Paula sighed. "Do you happen to know where Daddy kept his hover craft at?"

"As I remember, he always kept it in the garage at the mansion," Flossgaard muttered. "But that would mean…"

"Exactly. Whoever did this _must_ have had easy access to and from the garage; but I can't for the life of me think of who that could be…"

"Neither can I, Paula," Flossgaard sighed. "Anyway, I have to get on with cataloguing some of your parents' other belongings. They were planning to present them to the Library of Acmetropolis."

"Oh?"

"Yes, mostly one of a kind works of art, rare photographs, and the like. You know, the sort of mementos one compiles over a lifetime that one finally has to put in storage because there's just no room for it anywhere else," Flossgaard chuckled lightly. "Why, did you know they even kept the escape pod you landed in when you arrived?"

"Really?" Paula's eyes opened wide. "I've _got_ to see that! Where is it?"

"It's all in warehouse #24. You're more than welcome to come along if you like…"

"Stanley, you couldn't _keep_ me away!" Paula exclaimed, finishing her coffee in one quick gulp. "Lead on!"

"Aren't you going to tell the others where you're going?"

"I'll do that when we get there. Let's go!" She grabbed her pocket communicator from her jacket, put it in her left blouse pocket, and soon she and Flossgaard were off.

Several minutes later, the other members of the HOP Force finally awoke and gathered in the kitchen. "Hey, has anybody seen Paula?" Massive asked.

"No," Drake replied. "Think she went sky surfing?"

"Not likely," Velvet answered. "One, she _never_ goes surfing this early, and two, her board's still here," she added, pointing to the board on the wall where everyone's hover boards were still hanging by their clips… including Paula's.

"Oh." Drake shrugged. "Well, she'll be back."

Suddenly, an electronically disguised voice came from their main computer. "I wouldn't be too sure of that, HOP Force!"

"Who said that?" Duke asked.

"I did, Mr. Sypher. And if you _ever_ want to see your precious Weather Vane _alive again_, you will do _exactly_ as I tell you."

"We're listening…" Massive grumbled.

"You will bring $1,000,000 in quasarlinium to the red moon of planet Nektar…"

"We don't have that kind of money!" Mallory declared angrily.

"Well then, I guess it's bye bye Weather Vane, isn't it?"

"Wait!" Velvet declared. "I've got it!"

"Congratulations, Velvet. You _may_ have just saved your friend's life. I'd hurry if I were you." And the message ended.

The members of the Force looked at each other with varying degrees of worry. "Do you think it's a scam of some sort?" Drake asked.

"Maybe, but we can't risk it where Paula's concerned," Velvet said urgently. "First rule, treat every such threat seriously. Duke, get the jet warmed up!"

"Way ahead of you, Vel! Come on, squirt!"

"Right behind ya, bro'!" Drake replied, and the two Syphers dashed out the door towards the hangar.

"I hope you _have_ a million in quasarlinium, Vel," Mallory sighed.

"Yeah, but we can't waste time getting it."

"You mean?" Massive asked, concerned for Paula's safety.

"Second rule, _never_ cave in to extortionists' demands. Something smells fishy about this whole thing, guys… and yet, it's not _like_ Paula to just take off without telling _anybody_. Again, we've got to take this seriously, just in case. Let's get going!" The threesome left the main area and headed for the hangar.

As they strapped themselves into the jet, Massive couldn't help saying, "I hope you're right, Vel."

"So do _I_, big guy, so do _I. _Let's get this bird flying, Duke!"

"You got it, Vel! Hang on!" Duke replied as the jet soared out of the orb and headed for its rendezvous with the kidnapper.

A kidnapper who never even existed…

---

Meanwhile, Paula and Flossgaard had both arrived at the warehouse district. "I don't like this, Flossgaard," Paula muttered. "It's…"

"Quiet… too quiet?"

"That's the cliché I was looking for." Paula squinted at the building before them. "That's the warehouse?"

"That's right, Mrs. Paine. Your father designed it with hidden entrances to make it inaccessible to thieves. He wouldn't even tell _me _where they are."

"Well, how are we supposed to get in, then?"

"Fortunately, Paula, I _do_ have some training in _that_ area," he smiled. "You stay here, I'll see if I can find them."

"Hurry back," she said.

With a clipped "Right-o!" he headed off around the corner and disappeared from sight.

Paula seriously considered changing into Weather Vane at that moment, but for the life of her, couldn't think of one good reason why… until she heard the explosion behind the warehouse. "Flossgaard!" she shrieked.

"Right here," came the clipped British accent from the man who struck Paula on the head with a shovel, knocking her unconscious and opening a small gash. Grunting, he bent down, hoisted her over his shoulder, and carried her inside the warehouse, not even noticing that her pocket communicator had fallen to the ground…

---

"Oh, blimey, my head!" moaned Flossgaard as he struggled to sit up. Fortunately, he'd sustained no physical damage from the explosion, which was a minor miracle in itself. Then, remembering his mission, he staggered to his feet and rounded the corner the way he'd come. "I'm all right, Mrs. Paine, nothing but a small depth charge… Mrs. Paine?" He looked around cautiously. "Paula?" As he approached the spot where he'd left her, he saw the dark stain on the concrete. "Oh, bloody 'ell, _no_…" He crouched down to get a closer look, and spotted her communicator nearby. "Hm… wonder what _this_ thing does?" He pressed the lavender triangular button in the center, which lit up.

"Greetings, space travelers, you've reached HOP Force One. Our cruising altitude is…"

"Cool it, Drake!" Duke could be heard to mutter.

"Mr. Sypher, thank heavens!"

"_Flossgaard?_"

"Yes, sir… Mrs. Paine and I were going to inspect some of her family's belongings this morning and… well, I'm afraid something _terrible_ has happened to Paula…"

"Wait a minute… she's been with _you_ all this time?"

"Up until a couple of minutes ago, yes, sir…"

"Oh, man… I _KNEW_ it! This whole _thing_ was a set-up! Where are you?"

"I'm outside Warehouse #24, do any of you know where that is?"

Massive replied, "Not a clue… hey, how'd you get through to us?"

"Apparently, Gordon, your wife dropped some sort of a communicator device, round with a lavender triangle in the centre…"

"That's it!" Duke said. "Okay, listen carefully. The thing has a built-in homing beacon. There should be a blue sliding toggle switch on the side."

"Yes, I see it."

"Okay, slide it upward to the 'on' position and wait for us. We're coming in!"

"Right-o!" Flossgaard replied, sliding the switch and pocketing the device. After several more seconds of diligent searching around the perimeter of the warehouse, he finally found one of the hidden entrances. "And so am _I_…"

---

Paula awoke after several minutes to find herself in a most uncomfortable position, blindfolded with her hands and feet bound behind her. She struggled to free herself, but no matter how hard she tried, it wasn't working. In fact, the ropes seemed to be getting tighter.

"So, you've finally decided to come to, have you?" came that clipped British accent from behind her.

"Flossgaard!" she sneered.

"I wouldn't try getting out of those ropes if I were you, Miss Hayes. The more you try, the more they tighten. Ingenious, if I do say so myself. Oh, and don't try turning into Weather Vane, either, please. You can't. The ropes are coated with a special material that neutralizes your powers."

It was at that moment the realization hit her as hard as that shovel had earlier. "You… _you're_ not Flossgaard!"

"Afraid not," her captor chuckled. "Just as well, I'm so sick of this stupid accent anyway. What gave it away?"

"The _real_ Flossgaard referred to me by my _married_ name!"

"Oh yeah, I remember getting the invites. I chucked them in the fireplace," he snickered. "The folks never even knew you were getting married…"

Paula's next question was laced with equal parts suspicion and disbelief. "Who… _are_ you?"

Her kidnapper leaned in until they were almost face to face. "Who do _you_ think?"

"Wait a minute… you _can't_ be…"

"Well, let me remove this blindfold and you can see for _yourself_," he said, forcefully – and rather painfully - ripping her blindfold from her. "Long time, no see, _sister!_"

"_PAUL!_" Paula gasped. "How did you escape?"

"I _didn't_," he grinned. "I perforated the coolant tube the day before takeoff, and went down with the ship exactly as planned."

"As… as _planned?_ Then… but they said you were _dead!_"

"Afraid _not_, sis. See, you weren't the _only_ one affected by that meteor back in '72. It affected _me_, too. Only, I didn't need a serum from some mangy _coyote_ to regenerate. I can do it _naturally_. I can also transport myself a lot _further_ than that stupid _Duck_ ever could. Pity your buddies won't be here to rescue you, but I sent them on a wild goose chase."

Now Paula was beyond horrified. She was angry. "You… you _killed_ Mom and Dad? _Why?_"

"Why do you _think?_ For the _money!_ Oh, and the _revenge_."

"_Revenge?_"

"Exactly. You should've heard the way they kept _doting_ on you when you became a superhero. Made me sick. I _hated_ it! I hated _them_… and _I hate YOU!_" If his words were a figurative slap in the face, the literal one he gave her hurt ten… no, a _thousand_ times worse.

Paula tried to ignore the pain as much as possible. "They… they _did?_ No, Paul, you're wrong, they… they _hated_ me…" she whispered, tears starting to fall.

"Why, you gullible little _fool_, you. You _fell_ for it, didn't you?" Paul snickered. "They _loved_ you more than you could ever _imagine!_ You even fell for that phony _apology_ in Pop's will…"

Paula's face blanched. "_Phony_… apology?"

"I manipulated it through computer animation. 'We should never have cut you out of our lives,'" Paul said in a perfect imitation of his father. "They never cut you out of their lives at _all!_ Mom even kept your _room_ for you, just in case you showed up! _Geez!_ How _STUPID_ do you have to _BE_ to be a superhero, anyway?"

"They… they _loved_ me?" Paula asked, hoping against hope that it was actually true.

"Yeah, but that was _them_, and this is _ME!_" He pulled a gun from his coat pocket and aimed it at her.

"It won't _work_, Paul. I can regenerate _too_, remember?" she asked through her tears.

"Not in _those_ ropes you can't. Yeah, so you can regenerate, big deal. It _still_ doesn't make you _immortal_, sis. You know what's _special_ about this gun?"

"Don't tell me… It shoots fruit juice instead of water?"

"It uses Actinoid Curium-247 bullets. I'm _sure_ you know what one of _those_ can do to you."

Paula stared long and hard at this young man with whom she'd grown up, played games with, shared secrets with, and – like a sister – even loved… once. _This_ wasn't him. "Paul… what's _happened_ to you?"

"That meteor did, _that's_ what! I risked my _life_ to save you from that, and for _what?_ To give _you_ a momentary reprieve from turning into everybody's favorite blue _darling_, while _I_ got six weeks of _hell_ in the isolation ward! But you _know_ something, sis? It all worked out anyway. You can control the elements… while I can do _THIS!_" He swept his arm around and grinned as a toolbox flew through the air and landed end first against Paula's stomach, causing her to double over in pain. "And that's just the beginning," he laughed, snapping his fingers. Paula barely got her wind back when she saw a small flame dancing on Paul's fingertips.

"Gee, you're kind of losing your _touch_, aren't you?" she groaned.

"Now _really_, sister dear, _that_ was the wrong thing to say, don't you think?" He made a gesture with his hands that caused the flame to sweep at Paula's face like a blowtorch, missing her by mere inches. "And shall I demonstrate _this_ for you?" He gestured as if he were squeezing an invisible ball, and Paula felt her heart literally collapsing inside her.

"No… _please_… Paul… you're _killing_ me… you're _sick_… you need _help_…" Paula gasped.

"_DON'T TELL ME WHAT I NEED!_" Paul yelled, quickly releasing her from this torment. Paula collapsed to the floor, too weak to even cry. That last trick of his _surely_ did some major cardiac damage to her, and with those ropes, she couldn't repair her heart. Paul strode up slowly, knelt down, and stroked her hair. "Oh, did I _hurt_ you there, baby sister?" he asked, wrapping her hair up in his hand, and quickly jerking her back to her knees. "TOO BAD!" The pain was intense, but there was no way for her to fight him. "You want to know the _other_ reason I killed them? It was because Mother had _finally_ come up with _the cure_, THAT'S why!"

"The… the _cure?_ For _what?_"

"The _meteor! How_ did you _ever_ get to be a hero by being such a flipping _idiot?_" he snarled, slapping her again. "While Curium-247 does remove one's powers, it also has some unpleasant, shall we say, after-effects… namely, it's extremely _toxic_. Naturally, of course, I'm going to reserve _that_ pleasure for my _dear_ little sister. But I digress. Mother's cure reverses _all_ of the effects of the meteor with _none_ of the Curium's fatal side."

"But that… that's _wonderful!_"

"_Is_ it?" Paul was uncontrollable now. "Do you know who her first test subject was going to be? _Do you?_ IT WAS ME! Of course, I've gotten _used_ to _my_ powers by now, and I wasn't about to give them up for anything… or _anyone_."

"Paul… _please_ don't do this…" Paula cried, cringing.

"Sorry, supersis, it's _way_ too late," he glowered, pressing the barrel of his gun directly against the back of her head. As much as Paula _desperately_ wanted to live, _another_ part of her wished he would just pull the trigger and get it over with. Even _death_ would be preferable to all of this torture. "I could have had the inheritance all to _myself_ if you hadn't dropped out of the sky like you did; but I can soon remedy that. When you die, all that money's going to go to _me!_ You're going to get exactly what you _deserve_, you little alien _freak_, and so am I!"

"_Indeed you are!_" came a clipped British accent from behind the both of them, whose possessor quickly and with great precision turned Paul around and delivered a knockout punch that felled him unconscious to the floor!

"_FLOSSGAARD!_" Paula screamed hysterically.

"Right here, Mrs. Paine," he replied as he quickly undid her ropes.

"I… I thought…" she gasped, appearing deathly pale.

"I'm sure," Stanley smiled, as Paula wrapped her arms around him and cried into his suit. "There, there, Mrs. Paine, you're _quite_ safe now. The others are on their way," he added, handing Paula her communications device. "I believe this is yours."

"How did you…?"

"Apparently it fell out of your pocket – probably as the blaggard was carrying you inside, I suspect. _Quite_ a stroke of luck, I _dare_ say!"

"Yes, quite." Paula sat down on the floor, put her head between her knees and took deep breaths for several long minutes.

"Are you going to be all right, Paula?" Flossgaard asked, concern showing on his face.

"I…I _think_ so…" she panted, finally sitting upright. "There, how do I look?"

"Wonderful," Stanley smiled at her, reaching down to help her back up. "Colour's back in your cheeks and everything. I dare say that regenerative formula of Tech's seems to have done the trick!" he noted as he wiped away the last trace of her tears.

"Good thing too, otherwise I'd be _dead_ by now." She paused and looked at her unconscious brother. "Stanley… was he right?"

"About what?"

"If he'd actually killed me, the inheritance wouldn't have _really_ gone to him… _would_ it?"

"I should bleedin' well say _not!_" Flossgaard replied emphatically. "Not taking into account the middling little fact that we _do_ have very strict laws concerning _fraud_ in Acmetropolis, my dear, you also have to remember that murderers get _no_ financial compensation of _any_ sort. He'll be lucky to get a half-eaten bag of crisps."

"Yeah… Hit him kind of _hard_, didn't you?"

"I had no _choice_, my dear. When he attacked _you_, he attacked _me_ as well, and as a former Major in His Majesty's Coldstream Guards, I can tell you that's the _last_ thing _anybody_ should wish to do! You'd better go before he comes to… quickly."

"Why?"

"As long as he's _this_ way, Paula, he'll be too bloody dangerous, _especially_ to you," he said, picking up Paul's gun and aiming it at him. "Curium-247, eh? I thought there wasn't any of that stuff left."

"_Wait_… you're going to… _shoot him?_"

"Don't worry, my dear, it _won't_ be fatal. It'll just lodge in his _leg_, is all. The prison doctors can remove it later. It's the only way… and it's a _damn_ sight better than what he _deserves_."

"But he said it was toxic…"

"_That_ depends on how long the bullet's left in, _doesn't_ it?" Flossgaard said coldly. "Besides, he tried to _kill_ you. Are you really going to take his word on _anything?_"

"You make a convincing argument," Paula sighed with a heavy heart. "But he _is_ my brother…"

"In name _only_, Paula. You have _no_ familial obligations to him whatsoever. Now _stop dawdling_ and _GO!_"

Paula staggered out of the place as fast as she could, but cringed when she heard the single gunshot. She hoped Flossgaard was right. As she ran further, she bumped right into the rest of the HOP Force!

"_Paula!_" Velvet said, shocked. "We heard a shot! What happened?"

"It's too complicated," she whispered, hugging Velvet like a long-lost friend.

From the warehouse, they heard a sharp, crisp, "On your _feet_, you blaggard! Get going! It's going to be _far_ worse for you where you're heading, I can _promise_ you that, now _move it!!_" The other heroes stared as Flossgaard ushered Paul Hayes out into the open, a tourniquet on his lower left leg. "_Captain Sypher!_"

"Paula?" Duke asked, slightly bemused.

"Former British Army Major," she smiled. "_Humor_ him, Duke. He _outranks_ you." Duke nodded and approached the lawyer.

"Yes sir, Major!" he saluted.

"Ah, so she told you, did she? Good. I have a special delivery for Acmetropolis Prison for you. Have you ready transport?" Duke pointed over his shoulder to their jet. "My word, a Frelengian fighter! How did you _ever_ score one of _those?_"

"It's another gift from Zadavia," Duke grinned.

"Yes, do regale me with the details on the way, won't you?" Flossgaard smiled in return as the others approached. "Ah, Gordon, would you be so kind as to help me keep an eye on this… well, there's _ladies_ present, so I _dare_ not _say_ it…"

"My pleasure," Massive grinned.

"Thanks, Stanley. You… you saved my life. I'll _never_ forget that," Paula smiled, indulging in another hug.

"You're quite welcome, my dear. It was both my duty _and_ my pleasure. Yours is a life well _worth_ saving," he smiled in return.

"Hey, what about me?" Paul barked.

"Oh, _SHUT UP!_" Flossgaard and Paula shouted as they both spun around and decked Paul, knocking him cold a second time!

"Sniveling little rat faced git…" Flossgaard muttered.

"I like their style," Drake snickered.

---

Justice was once again served, but somehow, Paula was not satisfied. Something just _felt _wrong, and she knew _exactly_ what it was. She also knew exactly what she had to do… even if it cost her everything she'd worked for… and that if the rest of the team found out, they'd try to talk her out of it.

She went to the privacy of her _dojo_ and, making sure she was alone, pressed a button on her wrist communicator. "Paula calling Tech," she half whispered. "Repeat, Paula calling Tech… come in, Tech…"

"Tech here, Paula. I heard about what happened. I'm sorry…"

"Thank you, Tech. Listen, what can you tell me about Dr. Fidel Chroniker?"

"Dr. Chroniker?" the coyote smiled. "Why Paula, you are developing some _new_ outside interests, aren't you?"

"Never mind the flattery, coyote babe. I need you to tell me where I can _find_ him."

"If I remember correctly, he's…" Tech stopped suddenly. "Paula, _why_ do you want to know?"

"I just _need_ to…"

Being an ultra-super genius, it didn't take Tech long to figure it out. "Paula, do you know what you're asking?"

"_Please_, Tech," she sobbed. "I've been kidnapped, went crazy, been poisoned, blinded, eaten by space lizards, almost killed someone… all in the name of saving Acmetropolis… and _I_ _just lost my family!_ _Please_… don't I get to be _happy?_ Just _once?_"

Back on Planet Blanc, Tech shook his head, buried it in his paw, and emitted a deep sigh. He couldn't refuse her _any_ request when she did _that_. He certainly wasn't going to start any new trends _now_, either. "You had _better_ hope the others never find out…"

"You won't have to worry about _that_, Tech. I'm going to tell them."

"When?"

"Just before I _resign_…"

---

Chapter Three: "Time For A Change…"

"Excuse me?" Paula asked tentatively, knocking on the door to Dr. Fidel Chroniker's laboratory and finding it open. Not knowing what to expect, she stepped inside. "Dr. Chroniker? Hello?"

"Either come in or go back out, young woman, I'm not trying to air condition the whole neighborhood!" said a gruff voice that came from directly behind her.

"ACK!" Paula said, spinning around, clutching at her blouse and looking at Dr. Chroniker, an elderly man with long shoulder-length white hair, sitting in a sort of floating wheelchair. "Oh! You startled me… Dr. Chroniker?"

"You seem to have the _advantage_, I'm afraid," the doctor said, fixing a stern gaze on his visitor that let her know she wasn't entirely welcome at that moment. "I should tell you at the outset that I'm not in the mood for buying cookies…"

"_What?_" Paula asked, staring at the old man before regaining her train of thought. "No, I'm not selling cookies…"

"Pity, I would've really _liked_ some," Chroniker muttered irritably. "Then state your business and kindly leave the way you came. I don't care for visitors. Besides, how do I know you aren't some super villain?"

A devilish smile crossed Paula's lips. Raising her arms, she nodded her head slightly and transformed into her alter-ego. "Do you mean like _this?_"

Chroniker gasped in surprise. "_Weather Vane?_"

"I see you've heard of me," she replied.

"Did _Arthur_ send you here to finish me off? Is _that _it?"

"_Arthur?_ Who's Arthur?" Weather Vane asked, slightly confused.

"My _grandson_… you know, 'Time Skip'?"

"Time Ski… Oh, _him!_ Sorry to disappoint you, Dr. Chroniker, but as a rule, super villains rarely team up for _anything_. Believe me, it _always_ ends disastrously. Besides, the _last_ time I saw him, he tried to get fresh with me and I had to slap him silly," she grinned. "He deserved it, too."

"I'm not surprised. Look, take anything you like and leave me alone, please…"

"Huh? Oh, I'm sorry, doctor! I guess you don't keep up with the news much. _My_ super villain days are _long_ behind me," Weather Vane smiled, reverting to her Paula persona. "Actually, I was sent here by a mutual acquaintance of ours, Tech E. Coyote."

"Oh, _him_," Dr. Chroniker muttered. "Well, Miss Hayes… it _is_ 'Miss Hayes,' isn't it?"

"You really _have_ heard of me," she said, almost apologetically. "Actually, I'm married, now…"

"In _that_ case, it really _is_ a pity," the old man smiled. "Well, no matter. You said Tech sent you here? Why?"

"Doctor, I need to travel back in time…"

"_Out of the question, young woman!_ Mucking about with time is a complicated business. Do you _know_ what could happen if you go about changing history? I'm sorry, but even if you _are_ a friend of Tech's, I can't allow it, and that's _final!_"

"Not even… to save my parents' _lives?_" she gulped softly, a tear unconsciously falling down her face.

"Not even _that._"

Paula's lips quivered, the tears falling more freely. "I see… well, thanks for your time, Dr. I'm sorry you couldn't _spare _any for me… I don't see why Tech _idolizes_ you so much… you're just as _heartless_ as my brother is… I'll see myself out…"

She walked away slowly, and was almost one foot out the door when she was stopped by the doctor's shout of "Wait!" Paula turned around (again, slowly) until she and the old man were face to face. "What's this about your brother?"

Paula struggled to explain; but it was hard for her to do it through her tears. "He… killed my parents, Dr. Chroniker. I… wanted to… go back and… stop him…"

"I _see_," the old man muttered softly. "That's the _problem_ with this planet. Too many heartless people… you loved your parents, did you?"

"Very much, Doctor…"

"Yes… well, follow me, young lady. I can't have you thinking _all_ crotchety old men are heartless, now, can I?"

Paula's tears kept flowing, but this time, they served to bookend her smile. "Thank you, Doctor…"

"Oh, don't be so _lachrymose_, I've already _agreed_ to help you destroy the fabric of time as we know it, can't you be satisfied with _that?_"

"If I must, I _must_," Paula shrugged.

---

"Okay, is there anything I need to do, Doctor?" Paula asked, as she stepped into a flexiglass chamber.

"Nothing at all, young lady," Dr. Chroniker reassured her. "I've set the time co-ordinates for the day before the… well…"

"_Murders_, Doctor; you can say it," Paula said quietly. "After all, that's what we're trying to prevent."

"You're right, young woman," Chroniker smiled. "Did you remember the wristband?"

"Oh, right! Thanks for reminding me!" Paula dashed out, retrieved the wristband from a nearby table, and slipped it around her right wrist. "Lavender, my favorite color. How did you know?"

"It was an inspired guess," Chroniker chuckled. "This will monitor all your activities while you're away, and I can see what's happening on these video screens. I should warn you, however, that if you deviate from your objective and threaten to change history as we know it, either knowingly or unknowingly, _or_ if I sense you're in extreme danger, I will have no choice but to pull you in and bring you back to the present."

"Understood, Doctor. Don't worry about me, okay? I know what… or rather, _who_… I'm up against this time. I can handle him," she smiled, placing a soft kiss on his cheek. "I'll see you when I get back." She then stepped back into the chamber and watched as the door closed automatically.

"For your sake, I certainly _hope_ so, Paula," Dr. Chroniker sighed as he pressed a button on the console that caused her to disappear. "Godspeed…"

---

Paula opened her eyes, blinked twice, and looked at her wrist watch. "The day before," she whispered. "He _did_ it…" She flipped her hover board in the air, caught it smartly and pressed the big red button on the side that unfolded it, then jumped on it and flew towards the Hayes mansion.

As she approached it, she saw Flossgaard getting out of his hovercraft and heading towards the front door. This was it. Slowly she descended behind him until she was almost at ground level. "Mr. Flossgaard?" she said.

The Brit turned around sharply, but relaxed when he saw who was addressing her. "Miss Hayes? My word, it's been years!"

"It's Mrs. Paine. I'm married now."

"Weren't you supposed to be –?"

"Blue and lavender? It comes and goes," she replied, stepping off the board and collapsing it, her back to the front door.

"Oh, of course it does… Paula, what can I do for you?"

"You can help me prevent a couple of _murders_, that's what."

"_Murders?_" Flossgaard gasped. "Good heavens, _whose?_"

"Mom and Dad's. I've come from the future, and I'm _really_ not supposed to _be_ here. Where's Paul?"

"Your brother? I believe he's in town at the moment."

"Good. Mr. Flossgaard, I need you to believe me."

"Why?"

"Because after I tell you what I'm going to tell you, you might _not_."

The Brit smiled. "_Really_, Paula, when I became an attorney, I _didn't_ trade in an open mind. Start talking…"

She did.

Stanley's jaw dropped. "Good heavens! We must tell your parents _immediately!_"

Panic filled Paula's eyes while, unseen by her, the front door quietly opened. "No… I… I can't face them…"

"Can't face _who?_" asked a petite middle-aged woman who had short brown hair and soft blue eyes, and spoke in a charming French accent… an accent that registered delighted shock when she recognized her adopted daughter. "Paula? _Paula Jeanette?_"

"_Mother!_" Paula cried, and the two embraced for what seemed like hours until another voice broke them up.

"Don't I get one, too?"

_"Daddy?"_ Paula whispered, taking a few tentative steps, and then running into her father's embrace, tears flowing freely…

---

"Paul?" Dr. Paulette Moreau whispered, shocked, as Paula told her parents why she was there. "_Non!_"

"I'm afraid it's all true, Mr. & Mrs. Hayes," Stanley said. "Tell me, after the meteor struck back in '72, did you notice anything… different… about Paul?"

Rutherford had to think for only a second. "Now that you mention it, he _did_ seem a little more confident… overconfident, actually… I thought maybe _dangerously_ overconfident, but I figured that would wear off in time…"

"But it _didn't_, did it?" Paula asked.

"No," Paulette replied softly. "Of course, we didn't really pay much attention because when we saw what had happened to _you_…"

"I know, Mother," Paula smiled. "Believe me, _that_ Weather Vane is _long_ gone."

"We _know_, dear," Rutherford hastened to reassure his daughter. "For what it's worth, we _much_ prefer the newer one."

"So do _I_, Father," Paula shrugged, with a smile. "I'm just a kinder, gentler weather manipulator… or something." She turned to Paulette. "Mother… is what Paul told me earlier true? Did you _really_ find the cure for the meteor?"

"_Oui_," Dr. Moreau replied with subdued excitement, reaching into her jacket and pulling out a long flexiglass tube, which contained a fully loaded syringe, its needle covered with a protective plastic sheath. "This is it," she said, handing it to Paula.

Paula handled the tube delicately. "Wow," she exhaled quietly. "So _this_ is what Paul was so angry about…" She handed the tube back to Dr. Moreau, who placed it back in her jacket. "How did you _ever_ come up with it?"

"Trial and error, dear, how else?" Paulette beamed. "Your friend Tech helped too, of course. If he hadn't given me his blood sample back in '72, I'd have never had _anything_ to work with. Unfortunately, besides the HOP Force, the only other ones affected are the criminals, and they weren't so willing to co-operate, you know?"

"I can imagine, Mom," Paula said. "They probably weren't too thrilled about the idea of helping you put them out of business…"

"Exactly." She paused, looking Paula in the eyes. "I'd _originally_ planned to use it on you after you first became Weather Vane… it's a good thing I _didn't_, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Paula smiled. "I _guess_… Why do you carry it around with you, then?"

"I suppose _you_ know the answer to that as well as _I_ do, darling," Paulette sighed, staring at the floor.

"Paul…" Paula replied.

"_Oui_," Paulette sighed. "That's part of the reason for the vacation we were planning. I was hoping to inject him with the cure when we'd arrived."

"Thanks for reminding me," Paula said urgently. "You say Paul's in town?"

Rutherford looked at his adopted daughter. "Yes, we sent him to get some supplies. We're planning a holiday at our cabin in …"

"Jones Bay, yes, I know. Has he been working on the hover craft?"

"I _assume_ he has, yes… why?"

"That's what I was _afraid_ of. We need to have a look at it now!"

"Of course, darling…" The quartet went out the back door and into the garage where Rutherford kept his hover craft, and together they inspected the coolant tube. "Good Lord!" he declared quietly, yet angrily, as he viewed the perforations. "We… we almost went _out_ in that!"

"In more ways than _one_, might I add," Flossgaard noted. "Tell me, do you know if Paul keeps a _gun_ around here?"

"_Non_, we don't allow those things anywhere _near_ this place!" Paulette said.

"He's probably got it on him, then," Paula growled. "After the… crash… he threatened to kill me with it…"

"But… but you're a superhero now," Dr. Moreau rushed to console her daughter.

"You ever hear of Actinoid Curium-247?" Paula asked.

The two elder Hayes looked at each other. "We had a sample at our research laboratory that went missing recently…" Mr. Hayes replied.

"_That's_ how he planned to do it," Paula said. "Thank God Stanley was there to punch his lights out…"

"I _did?_" the surprised lawyer asked.

"Relax, it hasn't happened yet," Paula replied. "If we're lucky, it won't, either… Boy, Dr. Chroniker was _right_. This mucking about with time _is_ a complicated business…"

"No doubt," Flossgaard smiled. "What are you planning to do?"

"I don't know yet," Paula said thoughtfully. "If we only had some way of catching him in the act…"

Rutherford reached in his coat pocket and produced a videocard recorder. "Will this do, darling?"

"Just like a father," Paula smiled. "You always _knew_ what I needed, _didn't_ you?"

"I _tried_, dear," he replied, gently hugging her and placing a small kiss on her lips. The quartet were distracted by a sound from outside the garage. Paula nodded slightly and changed into Weather Vane, motioning for the others to stay put while she peeked out the window.

She turned back to look at the other three. "Hide, he's coming!" Weather Vane whispered, pointing to a corner of the garage hidden from view by a sailboat that her father was working on.

"Is there anything else we can do?" Flossgaard asked.

"Yeah. Pray he doesn't have X-Ray vision and amplified hearing! Now stay hidden!" When she was sure they were safely out of his way, Weather Vane levitated in her bubble into an upper corner, safely out of sight – just in time, as Paul entered the garage.

"Hey, Dad? Mom? Anybody?" He looked around carefully. "Nobody here. _Good_," Paul chuckled evilly, grabbing a small flathead screwdriver and a rubber mallet, and returned to his sabotaging of the coolant tube, pounding carefully spaced holes in it.

"So _that's_ how you did it," he heard a familiar voice whisper. "Can you move a little to the left, please? I'm making a _cinema verité_ film and you're blocking my view…" Dropping his tools, Paul whirled around quickly to find himself face to face with Weather Vane, who was recording his every move. "Smile, sucker!"

Paul growled menacingly and punched his 'sister' in the face. "Be sure you get my _good_ side, sis!"

"You haven't _got_ one!" she spat back, carelessly flinging the recorder away – at least, it _appeared_ that way. It landed unharmed in Flossgaard's hands, and he did what any lawyer with half a brain would do… he kept recording. The more evidence, the better. Weather Vane wiped her nose, spied the faint trace of blood pouring from her nostrils, and saw red… literally _and _figuratively. "_That_ did it! I spent all _day_ getting my make up just so and you RUINED it!"

"Sorry, sis," Paul growled, snapping his fingers and igniting the flame. "Let me make it up to you. What's your shade… burnt umbrage?" He flung the flame at her, but fortunately, he wasted just enough time by talking so that she was able to produce some rain and douse the fire instantly, as well as soak Paul to the skin and then some.

"That's the _first_ thing they teach you in villain school, don't _talk_ so much! Obviously you dropped out before they got to that."

"Actually, I taught myself everything I need to know," he hissed, pulling the Curium-247 gun from his coat and aiming straight at Paula. "Like how to get rid of _pests_."

"You mean like _this?_" she countered, sending a small stream of lightning straight down the barrel long enough for Paul to feel the tingling and drop the gun. She then caused a small gust of wind to pick it up and sail it out of reach. "You _had_ to go for solid steel, didn't you? Tell me, were you going to kill me _before_ you killed Mom and Dad or _after?_"

"Does it _matter?_ Either way you'll _all_ be dead, her cure will be _destroyed_ and _I'll_ still get to keep my super powers. _Face_ it, you _freak_ from another world… _you lose!_" He advanced menacingly on Weather Vane and punched her in the gut, causing her to fall to the floor. Paul stood over her, making that squeezing motion with his hands again. Weather Vane felt her heart _literally_ being torn out this time. "So _tell_ me, Paula, _how_ does it feel to _die?_"

"Suppose you tell _me!_" Paul turned around to see Flossgaard aiming his gun at him.

Before he could squeeze off a shot, Paul kicked him in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him and causing him to drop the gun. He picked it up and aimed it at Weather Vane, unaware that Paulette was right behind him, the syringe in her left hand. "I've had enough of this, and I've had enough of _you!_" he shouted. "It ends NOW!"

"_OUI!_" Before Paul could react, Paulette raised the syringe high and shoved it straight into his back. "_You will _never_ hurt my daughter again!_" she declared; but before she could push the plunger that released the formula, Paul shouted in pain, turned around and slapped her away, knocking her to the floor, breaking her glasses and giving her a black eye. Rutherford immediately ran to her side, helping her sit up.

Weather Vane had seen enough. Not even knowing _how_ she had the strength to do it, she sprang up and leapt on Paul's back. "And _you…_ will _NEVER_… harm _my_ _family_ again… _**EVER!**_" she panted, pushing the plunger herself before they both collapsed to the floor.

Tears fell from Dr. Moreau's eyes as she crawled to Paula's side. "Paula… I'm sorry… I was aiming for his _shoulder_…"

Weather Vane looked up weakly at the woman who had helped save her life, and attempted to smile. Blood was trickling from the corners of her mouth. "And to think… _I'm_ the one… who's afraid of needles," she gasped. "Save the apologies… for _later_, Mother. Call an ambulance… and the police…"

---

Chapter Four: "Beginning Of The End…"

In the waiting room of Acmetropolis General Hospital, Mr. & Mrs. Hayes and Flossgaard were joined by Tech E. Coyote and Chief Reilly. At Paula's request, none of the HOP Force were alerted. "Can we see her now?" Rutherford asked the specialist who had worked on Weather Vane alongside Tech.

"Of course, Mr. Hayes. Your daughter's _very_ lucky. If Mr. Flossgaard hadn't intervened when he did, she'd most _certainly_ have died. A few seconds more, and her heart would've been torn from its arteries _completely_."

"_Mon Dieu!_" Paulette gasped, bringing her hand to her mouth.

"And unfortunately, there's _no_ regenerating from a trauma like _that_," Tech noted. "Luckily, Frelengian anatomy and human anatomy are _surprisingly_ similar. As it is, we were able to reattach her heart with no trouble. She'll need to take some time off, but Paula's a deceptively strong young woman."

"That she is," the specialist agreed. "We didn't even need to bring in the respirator. A little R&R and she'll be back on her feet and fighting the bad guys again in no time."

"She's one tough Frelengian, all right," Tech smiled.

"One moment, _Monsieur_ Tech," Paulette asked fretfully. "My son Paul, is there any word on _his_ condition?"

"Well, I have good news and bad news, I'm afraid. The _good_ news is your formula _works_. He has _no_ trace of the meteor's effects whatsoever." The coyote paused, bowed his head and spoke softly. "As for the bad news…"

"Please, Tech, you needn't tell me… paralyzed for life?"

"Paralyzed, yes. The needle went directly into his spinal column. For life, no. My regenerative serum's had some amazing results on both Paula and Velvet, so I don't see why it _can't_ work on Paul as well."

Chief Reilly looked directly at the Frenchwoman. "Your son's _still_ going to have to go to prison, however. I'm afraid that video will put him away for a long time. We don't take attempted murder lightly, Dr. Moreau. Of course, he won't get the same sentence as he would have if he'd succeeded, you know. I'm sorry."

"And… and _moi? _Will I have to go to jail, too?"

"No, Paulette. You did what you _had_ to do to save your daughter's life… _all_ of your lives, actually… _including_ Paul's," the chief smiled warmly. "That's quite a shiner you've got there."

"_Oui_," agreed Paulette. "I'll wear it like a badge of honor, Chief. I almost hated to _do_ that to Paul, until I remembered what _might_ have happened… and when he attacked Paula, it was too much for me…"

"Speaking of Weather Vane, why don't we go see her now?" the specialist said. The quintet cautiously entered the room where Weather Vane was resting comfortably, a wraparound bandage around her torso covering the various patches to her heart monitor. It looked for all the world like a wired khaki tube top.

"Hi," she said weakly. "I'm _really_ getting tired of hospitals, you know." She turned to the coyote. "Tech! What are _you_ doing here?"

"Dr. Chroniker let me know what happened, Paula," the coyote replied with concern. "You took a big chance doing this."

"I know. I… I guess this didn't _quite_ work out the way I _thought_ it would, did it?"

"Not quite," he shrugged. "But you stopped Paul, saved the formula, _and_ rescued your family. Not a bad day's work, all things considered. And you won't even have any scars to show for it."

"Way to _embarrass_ me in front of my _folks_, Tech!" Weather Vane blushed.

"You _really_ want to be embarrassed, change into Paula," the coyote snickered.

"Are you out of your _mind?_" the girl gasped. "Besides, I'm _supposed_ to take it _easy_, remember?"

"I know," Tech grinned. "I'm sorry."

"Tech, what _happened_ to Paul, anyway? We used to be so _close_…"

The coyote rolled his eyes in thought and tapped his index finger on his chin before inspiration came to him. "Do you remember what it was like when you first started working with Misty?"

"Oh, yeah," Weather Vane sighed. "I really _liked_ her at first, but after the meteor hit, I don't know, I just started… _resenting_ her more and more… I know that makes me sound awful…"

"Why was that?" her father asked.

"Same old story, I guess. She wouldn't take me _seriously_, and my resentment kept building up, and when the lightning hit me and I first transformed, all that pent-up anger finally escaped, and I took it out on Acmetropolis… Tech, are you saying Paul was the same way?"

"It _would_ explain a lot, Paula. Also, you have to remember that Paul absorbed much more of the radiation protecting you, and eventually, his _true _feelings about you surfaced…"

"I get the picture, Tech. He… never really _loved_ me, did he?"

"_Before_ the meteor? Hard to say. Afterwards? I'm afraid _not_. I'm sorry, Paula," the coyote sighed, holding her left hand in his.

"Thanks, Tech. Well, at least _Gordon_ loves me … Tech, was the serum successful?"

"_Yes_, he's back to his pre-meteor state, but as I was explaining to your parents, he was paralyzed from the injection." Tech looked Weather Vane in the eyes. "I _can_ give him a shot of the regenerative serum, and that would get him back on his feet…"

"Won't that cancel out Mother's formula?"

"No," the coyote smiled. "Of course, the final decision rests with _you_…"

Weather Vane weighed her options carefully. On the one hand, with the exception of Qurrg, Paul _had_ hurt her more than anyone had _ever_ hurt her before – he _did_ try to kill her, in fact; but on the other hand, in spite of everything, he _was_ still her brother, even if he was so in name only, as Flossgaard pointed out… and she still _cared_ about him. Finally, she sighed. "Do it, Tech."

"After what he did to you and your family?" Flossgaard asked, shocked.

"I'm sorry, Stanley. I can't forgive him for what he did, but I just _can't_ leave him like that. That either makes me nice or _stupid_, I don't know…" she cried.

"Don't apologize, Paula," Tech smiled, gently drying her tears. "You're _not_ stupid… as a matter of fact, you may be the _kindest_ ex-villain I know."

"Thank you, Tech…" She looked at her right wrist. "What happened to that wristband Dr. Chroniker gave me? The one I was wearing?"

"We had to remove it before your surgery," the specialist replied. "It was causing interference with our equipment. Is it important?"

"Extremely," Weather Vane exclaimed. "Nothing's happened to it, has it?"

"No," Tech smiled. "You'll get it back when you're discharged. You're sure you don't want the rest of the Force to be told about this?"

"I'll do that when I get back, okay?"

"Okay. You get some rest now, Paula," the coyote smiled.

Weather Vane placed her fingers on her lips and lightly touched them on the coyote's. "Sure thing, Tech…"

---

Paula was discharged from the hospital the next afternoon. "I don't know _why_ they want to stick me in this wheelchair," she said to Tech, standing up. "I'm feeling much better, really!"

"Tradition," the coyote shrugged. "Anyway, you weren't injured when you left the future, so your recovery shouldn't be that surprising."

"Let me guess, it'd be upsetting the ol' space-time continuum and junk like that otherwise?"

The coyote thought about it for a second. "I've heard it explained in more scientific terms, but basically… natch."

"Natch," Paula agreed. "Oh, do you have Dr. Chroniker's monitor?"

"Here it is," Tech smiled, handing it to her. "I wish I could have examined it in more detail…"

"Some other time, Tech," Paula grinned, fastening it around her wrist. She turned to look at her adoptive parents, who, to her, felt more like her real parents than ever before, and hugged her father warmly. "I missed you, Daddy…"

"I know, dear," he whispered, planting a small kiss on her cheek.

"Thank you," Paulette said, hugging her daughter.

"_Merci beaucoup_," Paula replied. "Well, I really have to get back to the present now... or is it the future? And if anyone asks… this didn't happen."

Rutherford exchanged a conspiratorial wink with his daughter. "Right… See you in the future, darling?"

"I sure _hope_ so," Paula said. "Dr. Chroniker, if you can hear me, I'm ready to go home now." As she started to fade from their sight, she added, "Mom, Dad, I… I love you…"

"We know…"

---

Paula reappeared instantly in Dr. Chroniker's laboratory, slowly opening her eyes to make sure she was really back. "So, young lady, how was your trip?" he asked as she emerged from the chamber.

"Um… _eventful_, Dr. Chroniker. How long was I gone?"

"In _real_ time? Only about a minute," he replied. "So you managed to get your little… errand done?"

"Yes… and _then_ some."

"I know," Dr. Chroniker noted, indicating the row of video monitors replaying select 'highlights' from Paula's journey. "You know I _almost_ pulled you in when he started attacking you like that, my dear."

"But you didn't… why?"

"Because, if I had, who's to say he wouldn't have gone ahead and killed everybody anyway? Besides, I wanted to see if my faith in you was _justified_," the old man replied almost casually. "And so it was. I'm only sorry you had to go through all _that_ to stop your brother…"

"So am I; but you know something, Doctor? Considering that I succeeded, I'd do it all over again. Thank you," Paula replied, giving the doctor another kiss on the cheek and handing him the wristband.

"You're quite welcome. So, where are you off to now, Paula?"

"Back to HQ. I have a feeling I'm going to have a _lot_ of explaining to do. Thanks again, Doctor," she smiled, waving goodbye as she left the laboratory and stepped out onto the sidewalk. She took a deep breath of air, grateful that she still could and, fishing her cell phone out of her slacks, called a certain number. "Yes, Fresh Aire Taxi Company? I need a ride to the Acmetropolis Tower…"

---

Once back in HOP Force HQ, Paula called an emergency meeting to explain exactly what she'd done and why.

"Hey, Surfer Girl, nobody's gonna hold it against you," Duke said softly.

"Thanks, Duke, but it's not as _simple_ as that," Paula replied. "I'm supposed to lead by example, and not go around bending time for my own personal wants. Who _knows_ what could have happened?"

"Well, fortunately, nothing out of the ordinary _did_," Mallory consoled her. "It was a pretty slow crime period otherwise, so nothing really changed… I guess…"

"And you _did_ prevent a couple of murders, babe," Massive reassured her. "There's nothing wrong with _that_."

"_Except_ for the way I went about it, Gordon," Paula sighed. "I could have _died_ back there! I was so concerned about my own personal happiness that I didn't even stop to _think_ about the possible consequences. A _real _leader shouldn't go about doing that." She took a deep breath. "I was selfish and wrong… on _so_ many levels."

"Hey, boss chick, you shouldn't go punishing yourself like that," Drake said, placing a consoling hand on her shoulder.

"Yes, I should," she replied, tears forming in her eyes. "Guys, I… this is the hardest decision I've ever had to make. I… I _can't_ be your leader anymore. I don't _deserve_ to be."

Velvet, who had remained silent throughout the meeting, finally spoke up. "So that's _it?_ You're going to _quit_ the team again?"

Paula smiled at her comrade-in-arms… a smile obviously clouded by regret. "No, Vel, _once_ was enough. I'm just going to stay in the background from now on and let someone more _qualified_ take over. I… I'm not _mature_ enough for this position. It's the _only_ right thing for me to do."

Velvet glanced at the others, then approached the girl and clasped Paula's hands in hers. "You know, 'little sister', for someone who _says_ she's immature, you just showed a _lot_ of maturity right there."

"Vel's right, Paula," Duke said. "You're still young, you're entitled to make a few errors in judgment -- well, as long as they aren't _too_ serious…"

"Thanks, guys, but that _still_ doesn't excuse what I did. Maybe someday I'll be wise enough to _really_ lead, but that day hasn't come yet. For all I know, it may _never_ come. There's still a _lot_ I have to learn; so, as I said, I'm throwing the job open to anyone who wants it."

The remaining five looked hesitantly at each other for a few seconds, and then, finally, silently reached a decision, backing away a step or two, leaving Velvet facing Paula by herself.

Velvet's embarrassed smile was countered by Paula's; only Paula wasn't so embarrassed. As she embraced her replacement, she looked at the others and said, "You made a good choice, guys. That's who _I'd_ have picked the first time around. So, Vel, I guess _you're_ our new 'boss chick'."

"I guess so," she shrugged. "Now, first order of business… I asked Acme-T news to send over a copy of the newscast from that night…" The sound of the security system interrupted her.

"Admittance approved. Welcome." The door slid open, and Misty Breeze entered.

"Misty? What are you doing here?" Paula asked.

"What does it look like? You people asked for a video, I brought it. Besides, I needed to see it for myself again, just to make sure I'm _not_ going crazy."

"How do you mean, Miss Breeze?" Massive asked.

"I know _exactly_ what was said that day, but… well, see for yourselves," she said, wearing a look of befuddlement. Velvet inserted the video card in the computer and forwarded it to the end of Misty's weather report.

"… and that's the weather for Greater Acmetropolis and the surrounding area. I'm Misty Breeze, ACME-T News, and back to Scoop."

"Thanks, Misty, and I'm sure we'll…" Scoop Carlson's appearance turned somber all of a sudden. "This just in, ladies and gentlemen. The wreckage of a private hovercraft has been found off the coast of Jones Bay. It appears to be that of Acmetropolis industrialist and quadzillionaire Rutherford Hayes. Reports are coming in that… yes, the three passengers have now been positively identified as Mr. Hayes, his wife, Dr. Paulette Moreau, and their attorney, Stanley Flossgaard…"

Velvet hit the pause button, while Paula turned pale and clutched at Massive for support. "_No_… it _can't_ be happening… _not again_…" she gasped, her voice breaking.

Velvet hit the play button, and Scoop continued. "Fortunately, all three survived with only light scratches and were able to walk away from the crash…" That's when Paula _really_ lost it, sobbing uncontrollably.

Misty looked at Velvet. "I remember it _differently_. Was that what you wanted to see?"

Velvet indicated the still-sobbing girl. "You'd have to ask Paula, but I think _she'll_ say yes…"

---

The next day, Tech accompanied Paula to the prison. "You're _sure_ you don't need me for this?" he asked with concern, handing her a small metal attaché case.

Paula smiled. "I'm sure, Tech. If Mom's formula _really_ works as you've said, then Paul's back to his old self again and I've got nothing to worry about. If not, well… that's what they have security cameras for, right? Wish me luck." She grasped his paw, gave him a quick hug, and went into Paul's cell. She found him sitting in a wheelchair, reading a book. "Paul?"

He looked up from his reading and actually smiled. It was hard for Paula to believe that _this _was the same person who had twice tried to kill her. "Hey there… um… this is kind of _awkward_, you know…"

"You're telling _me?_" she asked. "So, what'cha reading there?"

"_'The Sign of the Four'_," he replied. "I can see why you like this Sherlock Holmes stuff." He paused and bowed his head. When he spoke again, his voice was barely a half-whisper. "Listen, Paula, I… I did and said some _really_ terrible things, and I'm sorry… I must have hurt you a _lot_…"

"More than you _know_, Paul," she sighed, her voice occasionally breaking. "I… I _can't_ forgive what you said and did… not now, maybe not _ever…_"

"I understand," he sighed in return.

"But… I _can_ forgive _you_," she added, tears streaming down her face.

"Thanks, Sis," Paul said, finally spying the metal case in her hand. "Um, what's this?"

"It's my Christmas present," Paula said softly, opening the case and revealing the syringe with its glowing green liquid. "You don't know this, but I had to do a little time traveling to _stop_ you the other day."

"Oh?" Paul asked. "What did you do, change history?"

"Kind of," Paula shrugged, tapping the syringe lightly with her index finger. "See, originally, you actually _did_ kill mom and dad…"

"_What?_" Paul gasped, shocked.

"It's way too complicated to explain, and I really don't have the time… well, since I mucked about with time, as Dr. Chroniker put it, you don't remember _saying_ this, but you told me you didn't _need_ some formula from some mangy coyote to regenerate…"

"Did I say that?"

"Well, yes and no," Paula replied. "Now be a good guy and hold out your arm."

"Don't tell me…" he sighed as she applied a tourniquet to his left arm and swabbed a likely spot.

"Yeah, Paul, I'm afraid you _do_ 'need some formula from some mangy coyote', end quote," she smiled. "Brace yourself. You know how much I hate _getting_ shots, so forgive me if I muff this…" She injected him with Tech's formula, and they both watched as he briefly glowed a fluorescent green. "That should do it," she added with a touch of finality as she packed the syringe away, and then took him by the hands.

"Woo! Kinda _burns_ a little, you know?"

"Tell me about it," Paula smiled. "Well, are you gonna sit there like a _lox_ all day or are you gonna stand up?"

Paul didn't know how to answer that one, but she was persistent, so, trembling, he did. "My gosh… it really works!" he gasped, taking a step forward, and then hugging Paula with all his might; only _this_ time, as they cried on each other's shoulders, there was no harm intended.

Not now.

And never again.

---

EPILOGUE…

The HOP Force piled into Velvet's hovercraft after a most pleasant afternoon at the Hayes mansion. "You look _happy_, Surfer Girl," Duke remarked.

"I _feel_ happy, Don," Paula replied, breathing a long sigh of contentment. "I… I can't believe I can actually _say_ that… and _mean_ it…" Things turned out differently, yet they still had the same outcome, more or less. Paula's portion of the family fortune had been restored, as well as her place in the family itself; and Mr. Hayes had seen to it that a part of that fortune would be set aside to fund any future HOP Force endeavors that the group itself couldn't back. While they were there, she got Duke to submit to an exam by Dr. Moreau to see if he was suffering from any ill effects due to his previous double exposure of Curium-247. Fortunately for all concerned, she gave him a clean bill of health.

Before Paula left, she assured her parents that Paul _had_ recovered, and was _truly_ sorry for the trouble he'd almost caused; and she asked them to _please_ look in on him from time to time – partly because Paula didn't want her 'brother' to go through the _same_ mistaken mindset _she'd_ endured all these years, but mainly because she still cared about him.

Later that evening, Weather Vane sat outside with her back to the orb's protective grooved wall, staring wordlessly at the night sky. The door slid open, and Massive sat beside her. "Hi, babe, how you doing?" he asked, clasping her hand in his.

"Hi," she sighed. "I guess I'm all right, all things being equal. I was so _scared_ when I saw that video… I thought it had all been for _nothing_…"

"Yeah, I know," her husband sighed. "Babe, what in the world makes people behave like _that_ for _money?_"

She turned and flashed a quick smile. "_Look_ who's talking."

"Oh, _right_," Massive grinned. "Guess I should be the _last_ one to be asking a question like _that_, huh?"

"Hey, _somebody_ had to," she smiled, hugging him.

"So, what are you going to _do_ with it all?"

"You mean, not counting the gang's Christmas bonuses and HOP Force funding?"

"Yeah, besides that."

"Well, now let me think… my aunt and uncle's farm could _always_ use _some_ financial help."

"Yeah, that goes without saying…"

"Hey, do you remember that red-haired girl we keep saving?"

"You mean _Andrea?_"

"Yeah. You think her mom would object if we set up a trust fund for her college education?"

"I don't see why not," Gordon smiled, clasping her hand.

"Okay, I'll put Stanley on that first thing in the morning," Weather Vane laughed, looking upward again. "It's such a beautiful sky, Gordon."

"Yeah… what, not gonna make it rain tonight?"

Weather Vane considered the idea only briefly. "No. What would be the _point?_ Come on …" They went back inside and rejoined the rest of the Force, who were joined by Misty Breeze.

"Oh, _there_ you are," Misty said, as Weather Vane reverted to her alter ego. "Well, let's get ready, I haven't got all _night_, you know!"

"I know," Paula smiled. "You guys'll be fine without me for a week?"

"Sure," Vel smiled back. "You go rest your heart and reconnect with your folks, okay? That's an _order!_ And don't worry about us. What's the worst that could happen?"

No sooner had Velvet said that, than the video screen lit up, and Chief Reilly appeared. "Reilly calling the HOP Force! Urgent!"

Vel hit the button. "I spoke too soon. What's up, Tom?"

"How are you guys fixed for handling giant spiders from Mars attacking the World Dome?" Reilly asked, switching the video to a shot of the Dome, covered with three or four giant robotic spiders wearing those familiar Martian helmets.

"_Melvin's_ back in town, huh? On our way, Chief! Out." Vel turned and looked at Paula. "You, don't even _think_ about it. We'll let you know what happened."

"Okay, okay." The group raced to the main entrance, but stopped as Vel quickly looked back at Paula, who said with a smirk, "Yeah, you're the boss, _you_ get to say it now."

"Thanks," Velvet smiled. "SURF'S UP!"

Paula and Misty watched them take off in their Zoomatrixes, and Misty saw a small tear roll down Paula's cheek. She placed a comforting arm around her shoulders. "They're gonna be okay, Paula… and so are _you_…"

"I _know_, Misty. We'd better get going while we can," Paula replied, looking one more time in the distance, her voice choking. "Go _get_ 'em, surf bunnies," she smiled…

---

END SERIES ONE.

Story Copyright © March 10, 2008 by Jerry D. Withers (who may or may not be Furrball T. Cat… I'll have to check with my veterinarian). All rights reserved. Newly revised version © Sept. 12, 2009 by same. "ACMETROPOLIS," "LOONATICS UNLEASHED," and all related characters and indicia are © 2005-2009 Warner Bros. Entertainment, Inc., all rights reserved, and are used without permission, except as follows: "Duke Sypher," "Pauline Hayes," "Stanley Flossgaard," "Paul Hayes," "Rutherford Hayes," "Dr. Paulette Moreau" and "Chief Reilly" created and © 2007-2009 by ME! All rights reserved. The "Acmetropolis" series was inspired by a line from "A Christmas Carol" by Fire-bandicoot-coyote.

AUTHOR'S FINAL NOTES (or, a whole bunch of thank yous):

Originally, I started writing "Acmetropolis" to deal with a severe case of writer's block… little realizing _what_ I would eventually come up with. This series has been _more_ than a blast-and-a-half to write, and I'm grateful for the response it's received. Thanks to all who read and reviewed. Even if you read and _didn't_ review, thanks. I'm especially grateful to those authors who allowed me to borrow ideas from their stories (Fire-bandicoot-coyote for the original inspiration, flexa, and Ippiki Ookami no Kage) as well as Acosta José Peréz Ramiro (the author of the best Rhubella Rat stories I _didn't_ write, "The New Students" and "The Rat From Perfecto" – see the Tiny Toons section) for an idea that would have completely escaped me. Thanks to you all.

Additional thanks to the following singers and groups whose songs provided the chapter titles in this story. They are, in order: John Mellencamp ("Serious Business"), Electric Light Orchestra ("Caught In A Trap"), Split Enz ("Time For A Change") and Status Quo ("Beginning Of The End")…

Very special thanks to the voice cast for additional inspiration (in alphabetical order): _Candi Milo_ as Zadavia and Misty Breeze; _Charlie Adler_ as Optimatus; _Charlie Schlatter_ as Ace Bunny; _Florence Henderson_ as Mallory "Mastermind" Casey; _Jason Marsden_ as Danger Duck; _Jeff Glenn Bennett_ as Dr. Fidel Chroniker; _Jessica DiCicco_ as Lexi Bunny; _Kevin Michael Richardson_ as Tech E. Coyote, Slam Tasmanian and the Warden; _Maurice LaMarche_ as Ophiucus Sam; _Michael Clark Duncan_ as Gordon "Massive" Paine; _Phil LaMarr_ as Drake Sypher; _Rob Paulsen_ as Rev Runner and Rob Feldspar; _Serena Williams _as Queen Athena; _Vivica A. Fox_ as Velvet; and, of course, _Kaley Cuoco_ as Paula "Weather Vane" Hayes(-Paine)…

With appearances by the special guest voices of my own (imaginary) casting: _Adrian Pasdar_ as Ben Hayes;_ April Winchell_ as May Hayes; _Bianca Ryan _as Pauline Hayes;_ George Takei_ as Dr. Sakamoto Hu and General Artemis Augustus Qurrg; _Jim Cummings_ as Rutherford Hayes; _John Cleese_ as Stanley Flossgaard; _Kath Soucie_ as Dr. Paulette Moreau; _Maurice LaMarche_ (again) as Chief Reilly; _Patrick Warburton_ as Duke Sypher; _Stan Freberg_ as Judge Henry Knott; _Tress MacNeille_ as Sharon; and _Val Kilmer_ as Paul Hayes…

…and, of course, _many_ thanks to Warner Bros. for giving us _Loonatics Unleashed_ in the first place. May it rise again.

Scoop Carlson appeared as himself.

The Invisible Man disappeared as himself.

And with that, I bring this current series of "Acmetropolis" to a close. Will there be a second series? Only time will tell (so get your copy of Time and find out…). Until the next time we meet…

furrball out.

Meow.

And for those of you who missed them the first time around, here's the original reviews for Acmetropolis 7: The Inheritance…

SSBFreak

2008-04-01

ch 1 Another amazing fic from you. Great job. ^_^

Yunno

2008-07-30

ch 1 Nice epic tale. It took a while to read . . . so, do you have any other work posted around somewhere?

acosta perez jose ramiro

2008-08-02

ch 1 Awesome job, as always. Paula's family was greatly done, and so the plot and the time-travel thing. Keep the good writing.

---


End file.
